


Still

by LEGBOT (alienenby)



Series: Travelers AU [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Frisk, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Ambiguous-Gender Frisk, Big Sans, Camping, Hiking, Kissing, Other, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienenby/pseuds/LEGBOT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk wants to go camping.</p>
<p>Sans hates camping.</p>
<p>Or, well, he used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i have never once been camping in my entire life

You aren’t sure how you managed to let the kid talk you into this. Hell, you aren’t sure how the kid managed to talk _their parents_ into this. But here the two of you are, hiking up a mountain with nothing but whatever you packed to bring with you. You’re sweating like nobody’s business, and Frisk looks as crisp and cool as a fair number of cucumbers. They crest the top of this particular slope, gazing out at whatever is on the other side, a hand serving as a visor over their eyes (which is totally pointless, they’re already wearing a hat). They turn, waving their hand in a gesture that tells you to hurry up. You don’t.

They huff and roll their eyes as you finally reach them. They mention something about the campsite being close, but you aren’t really listening. You’ll just follow the kid and trust they won’t purposefully lead you astray.

Another thirty minutes of hiking (“close,” _your ass_ ) brings the two of you to the clearing where you’re supposed to set up your campsite. You immediately drop your backpack, and Frisk gives you a disapproving look as they remove theirs. They unpack the tent…stuff, and begin to set it up. You plop down on one of the logs set up to be seats around the campfire, being absolutely no help at all. Frisk takes a whopping ten minutes, maybe, to set up the tent – but you don’t actually know if that’s a long time to take for that or not. They then head off to gather up firewood, and ask that you at least get the matches out.

You suppose you can manage that.

Frisk returns some time later with an armful of sticks and begins to set them up in the optimal position for a long-lasting fire. The sun is beginning to set, you note idly, watching Frisk struggle with the matches for a moment before finally lighting one. They set it to the kindling, and step back to watch the blaze come to life. Satisfied, they plop down next to you on the log, bumping their shoulder into yours. You shove them off, and they snicker, pleased that you’ve finally begun to destress.

You suppose that, yeah, you finally have.

 

 

The moon is climbing the sky, stars sprinkled between fits of backlit clouds. Frisk is holding a stick over the fire, several fat marshmallows skewered on the end. You watch the way the light brings out the copper tones in their eyes as they turn to you, offering a still-flaming ball of sugar. You blow out the embers on it, but leave it to cool on the stick for a moment before Frisk apparently gets impatient and shoves it into your face. You complain, trying to clean your face of the sticky treat. Frisk snorts inelegantly, covering their mouth with a hand. You pull a glob of marshmallow off your face, and a impish grin makes its way onto your lips. Frisk has only a second of seeing your expression before you smash the goo onto their nose. They shriek quietly, as though there is someone to hear besides you and the trees and whatever animals are out there.

The marshmallow fight continues for a while, before the two of you are too tired to shove anymore marshmallows at each other’s faces. The two of you use a generous amount of wet wipes to get the marshmallow off of your faces. Frisk is still giggling, and you can’t help but crack another smile.

You both sit in front of the fire for probably another hour, talking about anything that comes to mind and looking up at the stars. You point out and tell Frisk about all the ones you know, and they watch with rapt attention.

You glance back down at them, only to find their attention on you instead of the sky. You call their name questioningly, but instead of responding, they abruptly lean forward to press their lips against yours. You startle for a moment, before you just…let them. Before you just…return it.

Their lips are still sweet and slightly sticky from the marshmallows, a lightly charred taste from the fire underlying it.

You don’t know how long the two of you are like this, but you know that the sound of a branch in the pit snapping in half startles the both of you out of it. Frisk leans their forehead against yours, eyes crossing only slightly at the proximity. You point out how attractive that is, and they laugh, shoving your shoulder before they stand and put out the fire. They tuck your bags into the tent, then turn to you, one hand held out beckoningly. You take it, using it to pull yourself up (even though that nearly pulls Frisk off their feet). They tug you into the tent before they start to undress, and you politely look away as you change your own clothes. Before long, the two of you are burrowing into your monster-sized sleeping bag, facing each other even though it’s too dark to see anything. Neither of you say anything, only listening to the sounds of the wind and crickets outside the tent.

Without a warning, Frisk moves closer to you, tangling your legs with theirs and tucking their head under your chin. You settle an arm over their waist, breathing in the scent of cinnamon mixed with wood smoke from their hair, and close your eyes.

Outside the tent, the wind is blowing and leaves are rustling. Crickets are chirping and owls are hooting. Occasionally, a night bird cries. But inside, everything is calm. Everything is still, except for the quiet snores coming from Frisk. It’s soothing. It’s something you could definitely get used to – their warmth pressed against you and their simultaneously earthy and airy presence. They always bring a sense of calm with them. And here in the wilderness, away from people and pressures and _problems_ , where the two of you can just…be still, and not worry about the rest of the world.

It’s a nice change.


End file.
